Wake Up
by xMackAttack
Summary: Just a short Troffy oneshot. Inspired by Xaidyl's story, Ride (on ArchiveofOurOwn). Alex Smith and Chris Trott of Hatfilms.


"G'night, mates," Smith said, holding the office door open for his two companions. "See you tomorrow."

"Are you sure you don't need me to walk you home, Sunshine?" the small brunette teased with a cheeky grin.

"I'd be more worried about you, Trottie! The men of the night would eat you right up!" Smith sneered through gritted teeth. The smaller boy just laughed, punching Smith in the arm with a quiet, "Shut up!" then added, "Have a good night, Smith, yeah?"

"Don't tell me what to do!" Smith yelled, grinning, then exchanged a casual salute with Ross and turned up the street. The trio no longer shared an apartment, but Ross and Trott lived in the same direction, so Smith always had a quiet walk home. He dug around in his pocket for his headphones, shoving them in his ears to have some musical company. Reaching a crosswalk, he pressed the button and waited for the light to change. There weren't many cars around so the light turned quickly and Smith stepped out into the road. Suddenly the sound of his music was mixed with a sickening screech and he just managed to turn his head to see headlights before everything went black.

* * *

Smith sat up in his bed as if he had just woken up, but based on how exhausted he felt, it seemed like he had been awake a long time. Rubbing his eyes, he pushed the thought fron his mind and swung his legs off the side of the bed, moving sluggishly.

"Where's my breakfast, you C-words!" he yelled, stumbling down the stairs. He turned into the kitchen to find Trott and Ross sitting at the kitchen table, two half-eaten plates of eggs in front of them and one full plate waiting at Smith's empty spot. The sight felt slightly nostalgic, making Smith smile as he thought how nice it was to eat breakfast together like they used to. As soon as the thought entered his head, however, it felt wrong. 'Like they used to'? Smith was confused, but Trott interrupted his thoughts as he looked up with bright eyes and a mouthful of eggs, letting out a muffled, "G'mornin' mate!" as Smith sat down. Ross just gave him a simple wave as he hunched over his coffee, too tired for a proper greeting. Smith dismissed his confusion and began shoveling the food into his mouth, eagerly gulping down the glass of orange juice Trott shoved toward him. Trott chuckled, spearing more eggs with his fork.

"So when are you gonna wake up, Smith?"

Smith's fork stopped halfway to his mouth, some of the scrambled eggs tumbling back onto his plate. He turned slowly to face the smaller boy who was looking at him quizzically. They stared at each other for a moment before Smith finally blinked.

"What?"

"Geez Smith, are you still half alseep?" he laughed. "I said, when are we gonna go shopping? We're running low on some essentials."

"Oh, right." Smith shook his head, hoping to knock some of the sleepiness away, but he couldn't seem to shake the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was off. "Let's go after breakfast, yeah?" He finished the rest of his breakfast more slowly, then helped clean up the kitchen. Ross muttered a "later, twaaaaats" and shuffled upstairs to do some editing, while the other two got dressed and took stock of what they needed to buy.

They set off to the store, the late morning sun trying desperately to warm them through the chilly November air. They chatted casually, teasing, nudging each other back and forth, allowing Smith to take his mind off whatever wasn't sitting right with him. When they arrived Trott held onto their list and searched for the items while Smith followed behind pushing the cart, occasionally popping wheelies to keep himself entertained, much to Trott's dismay. After filling their cart, they paid for their things and left the store, Smith agreeing to carry most of the bags as the larger of the two men. As they crossed the road outside the store, Trott noticed a small dog on the other side and playfully ran up to it. As he petted the dog, he turned back to face Smith, who was still crossing, and, grinning, called out, "Smith!"

Smith's head spun. He placed a hand to his head as he heard a familiar screech and turned just in time to see the grill of an SUV bearing down on him.

"Alex!"

* * *

Smith opened his eyes, gasping for air, slowly blinking the blurriness away to reveal the unfamiliar, off-white ceiling above him. He released the grip he hadn't realized he had been holding, slowly relaxing his tense, aching muscles.

"Alex!" He felt someone squeeze his left hand.

"I'll get the doctor," another voice said, followed by hurried footsteps.

He turned slowly to his left, still blinking confusion out of his eyes. There he was met by a pair of deep brown eyes, that were welling up with fresh tears.

"Chris?" his voice croaked out in a whisper, causing him to cough. His own voice felt wrong in his throat as if it hadn't been used for a while. The smaller boy started crying harder.

"You're awake, Alex, you're ok. I'm right here, I'm right here." Trott was sobbing, but Smith also noticed a hysterical giggle escape his smiling lips.

The confusion overwhelmed him, so he closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, then repopened them and let them wander around the small room. His eyes fell on the tubes protruding from his right arm. He turned back to Trott and swallowed carefully.

"What… where…" He realized he had many questions, but couldn't focus his brain enough to formulate the words. Trott seemed to recognized this and spoke up, gripping his hand tighter.

"You got hit by a car, mate. On your way home from the office. You've been in a coma. Smith, I should've walked you home, I'm sorry," he pleaded, looking at his feet and smiffling. "If only I had been there…" Smith squeezed his hand with as much strength as he could muster.

"S'ok Chris," he mumbled. There was so much more he wanted to say to the teary man in from of him, like, 'it's not your fault, don't blame yourself,' or 'if you were there, you might've gotten hit too, and we can't have that,' or 'I'm fine now, so don't cry,' but this was all he could muster. He'd have to explain the rest later, so for now Trott would have to make do with just this and Smith's classic cheeky grin.


End file.
